Telegrams of the Soul

Fellow Man

No one man can abide another, in matters big or small, he just can’t do it, that is his eternally unspoken tragedy. He can’t give the reasons, which is why he must keep it to himself. That is his tragedy. He has no reason to be unhappy and yet he is, and so must bear it in silence. But when grief finally explodes it generally explodes wrongly and unjustly. Which is far worse. So to “grin and bear it” is the best thing to do. A “flare-up” calls for an immense reserve of spiritual strength and brutality, disregard for others. Who has it?! Who benefits from it?!?

So grin and bear it! Yuck!

Can you possibly know what plagues another, say your fellow man? The fact is, you don’t even want to know. What a miserable doddering camel you are, loaded down, burdened with your own intimate woes. Your concern for others is a forced comedy you put on for your allegedly kind heart! Nobody has natural Savior-like inclinations. There is only one. And he got his just due, they finished him off, in fact. Interest?! At best you’re interested in yourself and not even that, you’re not wise enough to be so farsighted. You lend an ear, but that’s the most tiresome thing of all, the fate of others. “Here, take twenty Crowns, but do shut up!” No, better let him get it off his chest—.